


While You Were Sleeping

by BusteloTelescope



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Angst, New love, Warg Jon Snow, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings, dadvos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-09
Updated: 2019-03-09
Packaged: 2019-11-14 06:34:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18047405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BusteloTelescope/pseuds/BusteloTelescope
Summary: Enroute to the North, new love reveals unexpected surprises.





	While You Were Sleeping

**Author's Note:**

> Hi again! I've been wanting to write this short one-shot for ages and finally forced myself to get it out.  
> I hope you'll enjoy!

The night was blessedly calm, Daenerys noted thankfully as she gazed out the porthole of her stateroom. She had woken in a less than pleasant fashion, her stomach riotous with nausea tickling the back of her throat, and assumed an untimely squall was to blame.

"Too much wine," she mused quietly, smirking as she thought back over the intimate evening she had shared with the man now snoring in her bed. They had, for once, shuffled off the royal duties expected of them and sequestered themselves away with a platter of food, flagons of wine, and their own passionate desires. 

Turning her eyes from the gentle waves, she bemusedly surveyed the wreckage of her room, aware of a flush creeping up her neck as she recalled heated lips and greedy, overeager hands. Wandering near the door, she snorted gracelessly and picked up her dress, now split down the front. "Jon Snow," she tsked playfully, "You beast."

As if in answer, she noted movement from across the room. Her lover, previously still as marble, twitched restlessly. Frowning, she dropped the ruined garment and padded barefoot to his side of the bed. He was making small noises, nearly pained, and his scarred brow was furrowed. A nightmare, she assumed with a pang deep in her chest, reflecting on the multitude of horrors he'd experienced throughout his short life and often chased him into his dreams. 

She reached out to gently caress his face, knowing from experience that her touch could bring him great comfort. As the back of her hand met his cheek, Jon's eyes flew open: wide, white and unseeing.

Daenerys stumbled back with a strangled gasp as she watched his newly pale eyes stare blankly at the ceiling, his breathing labored but even. 

"Jon?" she cried brokenly, laying a trembling hand on his naked, cool shoulder. When her touch evoked no response or change, she shook him brusquely and called his name with renewed strength. "Jon. Jon! Please..."

Her mind reeled and her stomach churned anew. She had never seen such an infliction but feared desperately for the health of his mind, perhaps still healing from exposure in the frozen wastes of the north. Despite her best efforts, his condition persisted, ghostly white stealing away the beautiful grey she had come to love. 

Staving off panic, she knew she couldn't sit helplessly and watch as the unhealthy fog stole him away. Pressing a fleeting but warm kiss to his unmoving forehead, she threw open the heavy door and rushed down the narrow hall in her bare feet, silken robe fluttering carelessly as she ran for the only other on the boat who may care for the King as dearly as she did. 

"Ser Davos," she banged on his door with both fists, "Davos, please! I need you!"

The door pulled inward mid-cry, after a short moment that felt like an eternity. A sleep tousled but concerned Davos stood at attention on the other side. "Yer Grace, what in the..."

"Hurry, please," she reached in and grasped the sleeve of his night shirt, pulling him to follow her agonized step. "It's Jon, he- he's sick or...I don't know. I can't wake him."

Sobs overtook her ability to speak as she hurriedly led them back to her room. True to his stoical nature, he didn't say a word, but kept up with her frantic pace and slid his hand down to grasp at hers with a comforting squeeze. 

The duo burst into the Queen's room, eyes instantly centering on the still form under the furs. Daenerys was confused when Davos showed no signs of concern as he stepped closer to the bed, offering her a weary smile and a gentle nod. He drew her alongside him, a supportive arm around her shoulders as he assured her that no harm had befallen the young king. 

"I would've hoped that the fool lad had warned ya about this before he started sharin' your bed," he shook his head in mock sold. "Jon has a unique...talent, ya might say. He's what some call a warg, or a skin-changer."

Davos could tell by her wide eyes, wild and beseechingly lost, that his words had offered little clarity.  

"When this frightenin' mess happens," he explained with a gesture to Jon's vacant expression, "his mind is wanderin'. He's in the skin of his wolf, like as not."

Daenerys was silent, gazing down at the prone figure below as she absorbed the fantastical revelation. "To be clear," she hesitated, "His mind - it - it's not here in this body? At this moment?" Davos confirmed the bizarre notion. 

She stretched out a hand as if to wave it before the strange eyes, but drew back, feeling foolish. "His...consciousness, if you will, is roaming about in the body of his pet wolf?" she continued, stunned and amazed, but without a hint of disbelief or mockery in her now calming tone. 

"Precisely. Though," Davos winked conspiratorially, "I wouldn't call Ghost a pet in his hearin'. Companion, I would say. Brother, I've heard from the King. They're bonded in a way that," sighing, he shook his head, "I doubt any of us could understand."

"He's magic," she whispered simply, sliding out of the Onion Knight's clasp to perch on the edge of the bed. 

"You're taking this better'n most," Davos noted with pride, eyes glowing as he watched the Queen gently cradle his King's limp hand in her lap. "Wakin' up to that frightful display, most would've screamed like to wake the dead. And we have more'n enough of that going on, I should think."

Daenerys smiled up at the kind old fellow as he chuckled at his own cleverness. "Thank you, Davos, both for your help and your kindness. Please, don't let me keep you from your bed any longer. We'll be fine now." 

"If you're sure? I don't mind sitting up with you. Gods know I've had my share of practice watchin' by his sick bed."

She turned from Davos to push an errant curl behind Jon's ear. "I'll take care of him. I promise."

Davos nodded thoughtfully as he moved toward the door, pausing half-way through. "Thank you, Yer Grace."

She looked up, confusion wrinkling her brow.

A bittersweet smile creased his face as he continued. "He hasn't had a lot of care in his life. 'til now." 

A silent tear may have run down her cheek, but the room was dark and Davos' eyes weren't what they had once been. He did, however, hear the quietly offered "Good night, good ser" as he softly closed the door behind him. 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I originally planned on continuing to see Jon wake up and explain why he didn't tell her about being a warg (there are definite reasons), plus the assumption that he was warging Ghost may not be 100% correct. Hint hint. But I found myself going d'awww at the end of the Davos interaction and thought it was a good place to finish. 
> 
> Thanks for reading!


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